At first, there wasn’t a lot that changed about your daily routine. Aside from the offhanded comments about planning or the too-gentle press of his hand over your belly before the two of you fell asleep, being pregnant didn’t bring much change to your life--at first.
The first month or so went by with little difference, but by the third month, the bump of your belly had swelled enough to see that something was different. Though it took the right angle to notice, there was a definite baby-bump forming, gently pushing your shirts and making your pants feel a tad too tight. It was also then that your lover’s behavior too began to change.
No more were the unspoken glances or the silent ponderings--Shouta had since moved into being vocal with them, obviously ready to start planning for the new little hero-to-be forming inside you.
“You should consider staying at home soon,” He may murmur into your ear in the early mornings, when both of you were getting ready to attend your jobs at the school. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt--the term is ending soon anyway.”
It was a suggestion instead of a command, but one where you could make your own final decision. Regardless, he would start to comment on purchasing furniture, clothes, or even how Yamada coos and rambles on about his best friend being a dad. Regardless, there’s nothing but fondness and warmth in Shouta’s voice each time he mentions anything.
The two of you continue to sleep tucked up against one another, his hands protectively pressed to your growing belly, his face nuzzled into the back of your head.
By the time you’ve hit the end of your second trimester, you’re on maternity leave. Though you’ve stopped officially working, it’s still nice to visit your lover for lunch, standing outside the door to the classroom and watching him give the students some level of hell or another--you can see the way he likes them though, the respect he holds in his sleepy eyes even when he’s otherwise dolling out punishments.
He’d be a great dad.
It’s not until you’re round and heavy, sometimes having troubles moving around, that the two of you start discussing the fineries of the child themselves.
“I wonder what sort of quirk they’ll have,” You’d muse, laying back against the man’s chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. “One like mine? Or maybe even one like yours?”
“Who’s to say,” Shouta shrugs, seemingly aloof to the question, though you know it’s been in his head for weeks. He holds you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll love them regardless.”
A giggle moves past your lips as he hums, a lazy noise that seems nonchalant, but has no shortage of nefarious purpose when you tilt your head back and gently press your lips to his.
“You have work early tomorrow,” you murmur against his lips, eyes having barely a moment to glance at the nearby clock.
“What can I say,” the man says lowly, shifting his hands, one to your belly, and the other slowly pulling you up his lap, so he could start slowly, firmly start grinding himself against your ass. “You look so damn hot like this. Round and pregnant. Wanna mark you up.”
He wound up taking a sick day for completely important purposes.
